


One Time Moran Messed Up (but the Professor didn't mind)

by tiger_moran



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (Downey films), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Affection, Forgiveness, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 03:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18002642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiger_moran/pseuds/tiger_moran
Summary: For the prompt from anon: Oh maybe you could write about a time moran kinda sorta technically botched up a job and is very upset/frustrated with himself and moriarty is like its okay





	One Time Moran Messed Up (but the Professor didn't mind)

Moran wanders restlessly, one moment standing by the window, looking out across the street, the next fiddling with the bits and pieces lining the mantelpiece, the next touching the books on the shelf. His expression is hard, cold, almost unreadable, except to one who knows him best of all.

“Stop pacing,” Moriarty tells him. “That's a very fine rug you are wearing away.”

Moran stills and turns his head to regard the Professor. “He shouldn't 'ave got away!”

“Indeed not.”

“I messed up!”

“I am hardly ignorant of that fact.” Moriarty does not look up from his newspaper.

“Then why aren't you angry?”

“How would anger improve the situation, my dove?” Moriarty carefully folds his paper and sets it aside. He rises from the sofa and strides towards Moran, slipping behind him, pulling the Colonel against his front, one arm across Moran's chest. “Would me throwing a tantrum like a small child change anything?” he asks softly into Moran's ear. “Would me beating you senseless alter what happened?”

Moran closes his eyes, his face bearing an expression of deep anguish now. But he unconsciously leans back against the Professor, letting himself be held. “I hate it when you're so reasonable.”

“No.” Moriarty gently kisses the back of Moran's neck. “You don't.” For he can feel how Moran is melting into his embrace, despite the Colonel's conviction that affection is the last thing he is entitled to at present.

“I don't deserve you being kind.”

“I think that is for me to decide.”

“I'd understand you far better if you just hit me.”

“No, you wouldn't. You would only be disappointed in me, as I would be in myself,” Moriarty tells him, for from time to time he has spanked or caned Moran during their more private games, but as for simply hitting Moran? No, he has never done that and is not about to start now. He drops his other hand down to take Moran's hand in his, squeezing it. “What happened was unfortunate but not the result of a deliberate betrayal by you, nor gross incompetence. From time to time these things happen.”

Opening his eyes at last, Moran leans his head back against the Professor's shoulder and lets out a sigh.

“Besides, pet,” Moriarty says, “I know that you will rectify your mistake shortly.”

“Yes sir,” Moran says, his tone low but fierce. “I will, I swear it.”

“Well then,” says Moriarty, marking the end of the discussion, leaving no room for argument nor debate. If Moran swears to it then it will be done and next time, Moriarty knows, there will be no mistake. “Why don't we go and get changed for dinner?”

“Yes Professor.” Moran, seemingly with reluctance, tears himself away from Moriarty, though on impulse the Professor catches his arm and tugs Moran back just as he is about to leave.

Gently he brushes a strand of loose hair back off Moran's face before lightly, briefly, Moriarty presses a kiss to Moran's cheek. “Now,” he says, withdrawing, “you may go and get changed.”

“Yes Professor,” Moran says again, and leaves the room, bearing on his face now not a look of hardness, not coldness, only the slightest flush of pleasure.

 


End file.
